


The Canary

by mangogoblin



Category: X-Factor (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Heist, im bad at summaries :(
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 18:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17431637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangogoblin/pseuds/mangogoblin
Summary: Theresa Cassidy works for a private detective agency, when she meets a beautiful and suspicious stranger





	The Canary

“Cassidy!” Summers stood in the doorway to his office, voice at least ten times the necessary volume. And people thought Terry was loud. “You and Miller. My office. Now.”  
Jamie was sitting across from her, and looked at Layla a few desks down. Layla stood up and walked past them, clapping Terry on the shoulder as she passed. “What did you do now?” he asked.  
“Dunno.” Layla spit out her bubblegum. “Probably something bad.” Terry sighed, slipped on her lanyard, and followed her into Summers’s office.  
“We’ve got a new case.” He slapped down a manila folder on the desk in front of them, Terry spared it a glance. It had “Institute of the Arts” scrawled across the top in Scott’s neat handwriting. “I assume you two watch the news.”  
“Of course,” said Terry.  
“Absolutely not,” said Layla.  
“Well, the Detroit Institute of the arts got robbed. They lost a few Picassos and a Van Gogh, and they want us to take a crack at getting them back. Miller, I’m putting you in charge of this one.”  
“So I’m not in trouble?”  
“No.”  
“Huh.” She almost sounded disappoint  
“Why aren’t the police on this one?” Terry asked.  
“Would you trust the police department with something this important?”  
“Good point,” Terry agreed, swiping the folder. “Is it okay if we take the spare conference room to get a look through these?”  
“That’s fine.”  
Terry managed to lose Layla somewhere between Summers’s office and the conference room, but she showed up a few minutes later bearing coffee. By then, Terry had managed to scatter the files all over the table. She nodded as the coffee was set down in front of her. She liked it best with cream and sugar, but she fully believed if she asked for that Layla would put salt in it just to fuck with her.  
“So, what we looking at?” Layla asked.  
“Like Summers said, art theft. Looks pretty clean, no leads.”  
“The hell are we supposed to do, then?”  
“What we do best,” Terry slipped on her trench. “Investigate.” 

***

If someone had asked her to describe X-Factor Investigations in one word, Terry would have said chaotic, so she picked up the files and headed over to a café she had heard someone raving about a few days ago.  
“Hey sweetheart.” Terry had just gotten settled when the woman slid into the chair across from her. She had the kind of old-hollywood accent only the obnoxiously rich and famous could develop. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing dining all by herself?” The woman was a total knockout. A curtain of dark hair, smooth brown skin, and features that a Kardashian would kill for. Terry tried to maintain an unimpressed look.  
“Workin’.” She said as dryly as she could. The woman smiled, revealing a row of sparkling white teeth.  
“I’m Monet.” The woman introduced herself. “You are?”  
“Theresa.” Terry said. Monet smiled again and waved a waiter over to the table. Monet ordered two coffees, one black and one with cream and sugar. Terry couldn’t help but wonder why this beautiful stranger had taken a sudden interest in her. “Can I help you with anything, Monet?”  
“Hm?” Monet picked up the black coffee and took a sip, tilting her head a little to look at Terry. “Oh, no. Just thought that maybe you could use some company.” She winked now, and Terry felt herself flush. The downside of being ginger was that just about anything turned her beet red. “You said you were working?”  
“Yeah.”  
“What on?” God, Monet was awfully nosy for a stranger. Lucky for her, she was also awfully pretty and it was hard to say no to a face like that.  
“You watch the mornin’ news?”  
“Sometimes.”  
“You know the robbery at the Institute of the Arts?”  
“The one where they took all the paintings?”  
“Yeah. I’m a private eye, the Institute asked our agency to give the case a look-over.” Terry said. Monet propped her head up on one hand and bit her lip, looking fascinated. Terry picked up her coffee and took a sip. A little bit too much sugar for her taste, but just the right amount of cream. “How do you drink that stuff?” She asked, gesturing at Monet’s coffee. There was a dark lipstick stain on the rim, the same shade of plum as Monet’s mouth. It was a good color on her; brought out the amber undertones in her eyes.  
“I dunno, guess I’m just used to it like this.”  
“An acquired taste?”  
“Like me.”  
“Oh, for some reason I doubt that you take a lotta’ getting used to.” Monet bit her lip again, and Terry didn’t have to be psychic to know she was thinking about how to get her out of here and into whatever penthouse she was spending this week in. God, Terry was so on board. Monet called over the waiter again and asked for a pen.  
“I gotta go,” Monet said, scribbling on a napkin and handing it to Terry. “But you should give me a call sometime. I’m in town for a while, and I could use some company.” And with that, she winked and left.


End file.
